Sorry Isn't Good Enough
by Tib Dunncan
Summary: She'd shared his secret from the beginning. He was a demon, yes, but he was far from a monster. Sabrina was certain that if her childhood friend had done anything, it had been an accident.


Sorry Isn't Good Enough

Noah jumped out of the truck, the slam of the car door echoing in the depths of the early evening forest. He was quick in his movements, in the back of the old red truck before Sabrina's feet had even touched the soft ground that was covered in the leaves that trees had cast aside in favor of new emerald ones. She walked around to where her boyfriend was and peered over the rusted edge of the bed of the vehicle. His fingers fumbled as he untied the tarp covering a small trunk, to which he quickly undid the latch. She gasped when he pulled the ghastly machine out of its gray padding, a shotgun, the ashy gunmetal shining in the sunlight. "Noah!" she was at loss for words. She hadn't a liking for guns, much less hunting. It always meant violence, or worse, death.

"Forget it, Sabrina," he hissed. "That freak is going to get what's coming to him, mark my words." He carelessly threw the tarp back over the opened case.

The girl turned to him as he jumped out of the back, landing with a heavy thud. "You can't! Noah, stop! He hasn't _done_ anything!" she shrieked, grabbing his arm. Sabrina's stomach turned sour as he shook her off, walking away on his own. After a moment's hesitation, she followed, running after him.

Immediately, he spun around, growling, "Don't _follow_ me; go _find_ him!" The blonde shrunk back and watched him disappear into the forest, the trees engulfing him.

Sabrina started off, feeling profoundly lost. Somewhere along the way, she picked up a large fallen branch and dragged the wood behind her as she walked, the gnarled twigs scraping into the soft earth, leaving shallow gouges and scattering the fragile leaves. She could understand why her boyfriend was so riled up against Junior. Noah and his brother Mason were new to the town, whereas she'd been there all her life, along with the boy that Noah was hunting, and even though she laughed when he told her he'd heard rumors about Junior being different – inhuman – she knew them to be true. She'd shared his secret from the beginning. He was a demon, yes, but he was _far_ from a monster. Sabrina was certain that if her childhood friend had done anything to Mason, it had been an accident.

Sabrina dropped the branch, startled out of her pleasant train of thought by the sound of gunfire – three rounds had been shot. Immediately, she took off in the direction of the reports as fast as her legs would carry her, fearing the worst for Junior. Nervousness bloomed in her chest as she weaved her way between trees, her feet pounding the ground.

Her heart raced. What if Noah'd done what he'd come here intending to do? What if she was too late, if Junior was already dead? The trees became a blur as she ran, praying that Noah had, out of fear, been firing at ambient movement, or at the very least had missed. Her friend didn't deserve this, she couldn't bear it. Her breathing became heavy as she pushed herself on, the branches like hands, reaching out and scraping her, trying to slow her down. It was her fault if he'd gotten hurt; she'd told Noah where to find him.

Sabrina stumbled over a root, falling, and was pulled abruptly from her thoughts. She looked back to make sure she wasn't caught on anything else and cried. "Oh, god," she exclaimed, fear washing through her body. Noah lay on the floor, a hole in his chest big enough to pass a grapefruit through. It was a fresh wound, as one could clearly see the blood still dribbling onto the bronze leaves that coated the ground. She couldn't move correctly, her limbs shuffling, getting her nowhere. She initially attempted to quiet herself, to stop blubbering, before she realized it wasn't she who was sounding. Noah was still alive, for the moment, his deathly white lips moving faintly. Sabrina squeezed her eyes shut, moving further away as she whimpered.

Trembling, the girl's hand came to rest upon a smooth, hard surface that she immediately knew was not organic. Her hand resting on his polished shoe, she looked up at the boy whose glasses reflected the sunlight so as to make his eyes nearly unreadable, her vision blurred by hot tears that were threatening to stream their way down her cheeks. Only after how many years of knowing him was she able to tell – he was distraught, to say the least. He held his hand out in an offer to help his friend to her feet. She grasped his hand more tightly than she'd intended, and he hauled her up to a standing position with ease. She clung to him, his cold hand still clasped around hers, and her free hand grasping at the dark red material of his scarf, fSabrinaliar, comforting. He was silent, wrapping his arms around the shaking girl. Silent, stroking her back in the manner one would calm a frightened animal. Tremors continued to run through her, as she was unsure of what had happened, only that Noah was dying, beyond help. They stood there for several minutes, the small gurgling and gasping noises slowly fading into nonexistence.

Junior finally spoke. "What happened?" he asked, in that quite, reserved voice that he'd perfected over the years; it was only natural for him to adopt the demeanor that the people around him treated him with. He held her below the shoulders, his grasp light.

Her breath was uncertain as she spoke, her words even more so. "He kept telling me that you'd hurt Mason. I don't know how, but he figured it out; he knew." She whispered harshly, not having to state exactly what Noah had known; it was all clear to Junior. "Go on," he egged, coolly.

"He stole his father's shotgun." She could hear her own voice steadily rise, fighting tears with volume. "He said he wanted you dead. He was going to kill you," She cried loudly, tightening her grip on his shirt.

"What are you doing here?" his voice was cold, and it scared Sabrina. She looked up at him, his being a good head taller. His gaze couldn't be broken and Sabrina couldn't look away. Her lips formed the words, "He asked me to come."

Junior looked down at her; immediately, she saw that she had misjudged his expression, and that it had been there all along. It was not a look of distress; he wore a look of remorse. Her mind raced. He couldn't have done it. She'd known Junior since elementary school; she had been the first, possibly _only_ person he'd ever told about his unique heritage, his inhumanity. Junior would never hurt anyone, let alone do what had been done to Noah.

There was a small pain in both her arms, and she realized that his fingers were beginning to contract. "You can't help who you meet in life," he said slowly, "but you can control how you treat the people you do." His claws were tightening their vice-like grip on the girl's arm, sending sparks of pain through her. She gasped, struggling to break from him, but even as she twisted and writhed, Sabrina knew she hadn't a chance against his demonic strength. His voice was quiet, almost comforting. "I was happy for you when that boy noticed you, happy when he kissed you. I understood when we didn't get to spend as much time as we used to; you had a boyfriend. I thought it was nice when his friends thought of you as one of their own… but I couldn't understand why you let them _hurt_ me all the time. My _friend_…" His voice was pained. "…since the beginning. I couldn't understand why you didn't say anything or stick up for me like you used to." He said, softly, "I was upset when you started ignoring me, but I would have preferred it to you treating me like all the others do." He explained everything pointedly.

Sabrina sobbed in his grasp, body trembling on the verge of collapse. The pain in her arms was numbed by guilt. "I'm sorry," she wailed. "I never meant to! I would never want to treat you like they do!" Fear bloomed in her chest, but she meant every word.

He cocked his head slightly. "And yet you did. Fascinating." His eyes were cold, his voice dark, a small snarl set on his lips. She hadn't thought it possible, but she was terrified of him. Her breathing picked up, coming in small, rapid gasps. "I'm sorry," she cried, repeating it over and over. Her words slurred, mingling together, her head bowed.

Junior sighed. "Sorry isn't good enough," he said, gently as ever. There was a swift _thwip!_ sound as a single tentacle-like appendage shot out of his back, arching over both their heads and striking her in the back between her shoulder blades, hitting her body with enough force to dig its way through her chest, coming out just above the bottom of her sternum. She collapsed, her knees buckling, but was held up by his grip. Sabrina gasped as the thing protruding from her chest writhed, widening the deadly wound. With effort she gasped, in too much pain to make any type of loud noise or scream.

The tentacle removed itself from her, retreating, slinking back into Junior, who held Sabrina delicately, much unlike he'd treated Noah. He crouched, laying her down on the sweet smelling earth and looked at her, her face glazed, distant. He knew she wouldn't last long, he'd made sure. Just long enough to say a few things to her before she slipped out of consciousness, her life leaving her. His face was calm and composed, showing no credential towards his words, "You _were_ a wonderful person," he reassured her in his quiet way, his expression unchanging. "I didn't _want_ this, Sabrina. I'm sorry."

She took a deep, pained breath. "Sorry isn't good enough." Something about her eyes changed; she stared sightlessly at Junior, who stood, a pain rising in him, and left her.


End file.
